Stolen Moment
by thefishoutofwater
Summary: Reflections from Ron from the "i'll go with you" scene from DH2


Not mine obviously. Borrowing JK Rowlings characters and a moment in time from DH2 the film

He is exhausted. Beyond tired. It has been many months since he has been home and his return to Hogwarts; a second home for so many years has been oh so bittersweet. They may have been greeted as conquering heroes but they haven't conquered anything yet. They can't be heroes when the bad guys live. Live and are winning. The end might be in sight but it doesn't look like the ending they had planned for. That they believe they deserve.

After the heat of the first attack there is a strange silence in the painfully deserted hallways. Dust and crumbling mortar turns the light to shadowy desolate greys, a sombre echo of how he feels as the adrenalin begins to ebb away. The only chink of light hitting his darkened mood is the fact that she is here with him, resting her upper body against his own. Allowing him to clasp her hand. Her breathing slowly and steadily paced in time with his own. Her presence brings a sense of calm, a sense of hope that cuts through the bleakness of the atmosphere. He may not be a hero yet but in this moment he feels like he might have won something today. Won someone. Feels that the future he thought he threw away in a temper months ago might still be in his grasp.

He is not sure how long they have sat, slowly relaxing into each other at the bottom of the flight of stairs but the time is a salve to his jangling nerves and he wishes that the stolen moments could stretch. He savours the feel of her; the stray hairs escaping the braid that tickle his forehead, the gentle exhalations of her breath lulling him into a state of near serenity in the midst of a warzone.

A slight noise on the staircase above them has her instantly alert, immediately pulling and turning away. She is on her feet and facing the intruder with a sharp intake of breath before he can even pull his thoughts together. Her concern for their third, her rushed almost breathless question gives him time to find his thoughts, his feet alongside her.

He does not want to believe the answer he hears to both her and then his own question although he is morbidly unsurprised by what is said. A lack of surprise does not equal acceptance however. Whilst he may desperately want to be able to wind the clock back two minutes to the moment when there were but two of them he does not want to fast forward either to the other boys exit – particularly an exit that can only lead to an impending doom. He moves forward reaching desperately for his friend, and find his arm held firmly. His movement is blocked. It is no longer about him. It may never have been.

She questions again. Her voice lilting over the shorter boys name in a way that has always caused a pang of jealousy. She moves forward, eyes locked on the newcomers and it is as if he had never been there at all. Like they had never shared those moments on the stairs filled with promise.

Like so many other time they talk and he does not really listen. This time he does not want to. He sees her shoulders shake with the effort of holding back her emotions and desperately wants to comfort her. Knows however there is futility in the thought as her shoulders settle once more. Her voice cracks and she proclaims her commitment to the other. A commitment that has her facing forwards, never turning back in his direction as she offers to go to almost certain death to support the other boy. To ensure he is not alone.

Whilst he processes what has been said he sees she is already in the others arms, her shoulders and arms moving desperately clearly grabbing hold as if to his very life. She is not alone he can see. The other boy, the brother who wasn't is equally struggling to hold himself in control. His hand is moving over her back pulling her into a tight embrace. It is as if time slows for a moment. The dark haired boy struggles before tucking her firmly under his chin, eyes coming up to face him once more. They hold eye contact. In a different set of circumstances he thinks that the unapologetic look in the others eyes might have driven him to a fit of jealousy induced temper. Even in these fraught and tense seconds he can not help but notice how much more comfortable they are in each others arms than previously. Can not help but wonder what other changes in their relationship he may have missed. Knows the feeling in his gut as their eyes meet over her shoulder feels a little life defeat.

There is no time for that tonight. His two closest friends stand in front of him reluctantly pulling apart, eye contact between the two boys broken as the others eyes pull back to hers, magnetically drawn. He sees his friend set his frame, jaw locking. There is all but imperceptible movement of his chin and for a moment he imagines that they will embrace again. Can feel the heat of the look that is shared. The knot in his stomach pulls tighter as he sees the flicker of intent in the other boys face. Imagines, worries they will kiss. They do not.

With a glint of light on glasses the other boy is turning, moving from a reluctant grip. She lets him go with a barely suppressed sob. He feels time speed up again as his friend retreats down the stairs. There is much still to do, a hint of desperate hope in the instructions she, no, they have been given. He steps forward and it releases him from the frozen dread of the moment just gone. He stands beside her again feeling like he has lost them both.

One to a fools errand to death and the other with him as surely as she stands beside him in the silence.


End file.
